Page 8 of Rushed

Somehow, I find my voice through my sexual haze. “JD on the rocks, with a slice of lime.”

“Don’t move.” His deep, commanding voice sends vibrations down my spine. As he walks off, satisfied with my choice of drink, I find myself content. No umbrella, no sweet and tangy chick concoctions, and for some unknown reason, it felt right to ask for it. His heat was comforting. Once he walked off, the room felt cold.

And that command? I wanted to rebel, find out what kind of trouble I could get into for disobeying.

“Oh, my God. What kind of girl am I?” Jeez, did I frequent these places? Do I feel at ease because I’ve been here, or someplace like it before? I don’t feel out of place, but I’m doing something naughty and out of my comfort zone. It’s sensory insanity, and I like it.

Looking around the club, I take it all in, admiring the enticement before me.

The music thumps from a DJ post up in the wall, where the occupants of the dance floor keep time with the sea of undulating, uninhibited, pleasure seeking, sexually depraved bodies of twenty- and thirty-somethings, fondling and fucking with enthusiasm. As I continue to watch the pit below, a gorgeous couple begin stripping, which catches my attention. One woman pulls her top off, showcasing the most perfect tits—ones I wish I had—and blemish free skin that can even be seen from this height. The two women are totally enamored with each other, and don’t have a care for anything around them.

PT—or perfect tits as I’ll call her—stands completely still with her head tilted back. I can see the true bliss on her face as CA—or Charlie’s Angel—massages, fondles, and sucks her tiny bud into her mouth. My heart rate increases as CA caresses her skin, reaching lower and lower, down her chest to the very tiny panties that fit perfectly on her hips. Skimming her fingers along the edges, PT has yet to move. It’s as if she was told to stay put. As CA dips her fingers into the little fluff of lace, PT sucks in a breath, and so do I. We both know what comes next, and we are both anticipating the pleasure.

“Enjoyin’ the show?” I don’t dare turn from the performance. I can’t. I want it as bad as PT does. The pain of being told to stay put, all while you want to touch, caress, stroke, and fuck is sexy as hell. Honestly I’m gonna stroke out if I don’t turn away soon. But not yet.

“Yes. As a matter of fact, I am. Thank you for the drink,” I reply, as I take the offered drink.

“They both like an audience. The one with the roamin’ hands is Cassy, the other is Chanel,” he offers. “Are ya into women?”

“It turns me on to watch them, but I’m not sure I would join them.” I think on it for a second, just as Cassy begins to go down on Chanel. “No, I’m pretty sure I like the opposite sex in my bed.”

I take a sip of the drink and wonder if it’s spiked. Well, fuck it if it is. I came out tonight to enjoy myself, and to release some very pent-up tension. So if it takes a little purple pill to do that, then so be it. If giant man hands thinks it’s the only way to get a girl in his bed, then he’s a sad excuse, and I’ll just have to make do.

Troy said this is a safe place, and that everyone invited has been vetted by the boss, and thoroughly investigated. Each is checked for arrest records, pending and cleared as well. Sexual diseases are checked for monthly, or you’re not allowed past the big bouncers. I’d been checked about a month ago, and with no sex as of lately, they didn’t have anything to worry about. But they still requested the information.

“Good,” he responds, as he brushes the back of his hand down my side, stopping just below my breasts. Softly skimming the edges, making his way down to my waist, his musky vanilla and sandalwood hits me like a wall. It’s scrumptious. “I like ta lead, and I want ya watchin’ the floor. No touchin’ anythin’, and you’ll be given what ya want. Got it?” More commands. I’ve yet to see his face, even when he brought me the drink, as I was too enthralled with the show on the dance floor. My breath hitches at his forcefulness, and I nod my head in agreement.

Giving him the answer he wanted, he squeezes my hips, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. I rock back further into his already close body, feeling his erection pressing and straining against the confines of his pants. I can’t remember the last cock I saw or felt, but this one is huge, resting all the way at his beltline. Whether he’s good looking or not, he has the right tool for the job.

As he teases my body, I can’t pull myself away from the porn show playing out down below. The two women are in their own world. Cassy licks and sucks her way down Chanel’s body until her panties are around her ankles and her mouth is devouring her clit. Shockingly, Chanel still doesn’t move, even as a man steps up and caresses her tits. The dance floor is one step away from an orgy, and I feel the need to watch every second of it. Like a train wreck about to happen, I can’t leave the scene.

Pulling myself back to the man behind me and his gentle, yet seductive caresses, I want to know his name, but at the same time, he needs to be anonymous for me tonight. This is an experiment in what I want, and a relationship is not it. No attachments, no love, no caring. He’s just a face in the crowd of dicks, chicks, and clits.

I just want to forget the stress of everything going on in my life for a little while.

As his hands roam lower and lower, lifting the hem of my diaphanous dress, skirting the edges of my panties, I suck in a breath, drawing his attention. “Relax,” he says. “I won’t be that guy. Ya still hold all the cards.” I grip the railing in one hand and my drink in the other, tightly.

A light chuckle escapes him. “Yer about to crack that glass, sweetheart.”

I giggle nervously, realizing the veins on my left hand are popping out like a roadmap while I’ve tensed up on the glass. Placing the drink on the railing, he reaches for my hand and places it over his stiff, oversized cock.

“I don’t need yer name, love. Here, everythin’ is anonymous, if that’s what ya want. I only want the feel of those soft, silky hands on my cock as I give ya somethin’ in return.”

I want to laugh and walk away from this cliché, but, the feel of his roaming hands on my body is making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

He goes lower, placing his hand over my panties, and runs his forefinger across the apex of my legs. It’s not enough to gain entrance past the silk, but enough to make my breath ragged.

“Yer soakin’ through yer panties, love. I can’t wait to taste it.” He drags his finger just inside the band of silk and lace to dip within my folds, eliciting a deep groan in my chest.

“Do ya like that? The idea of bein’ licked and sucked until ya come on my face, or finger fucked until ya can’t stand?” God, yes. It all sounds fantastic!

I don’t want to ruin the fantasy playing out by looking at him, so I force myself to keep my eyes on the show in the pit below, where Cassy and Chanel have stepped up their game. Chanel’s hair sways this way and that, her face showing her joy as she’s being fucked from behind. Cassy’s moved on to another spectator, who is now an eager participant. She takes his cock in hand—well, mouth, actually—as he backs against a pillar to hold himself steady.

I drag in a hitched breath. Leaning my head back, I rest it on his massive shoulder. A moan slips from my mouth as he dips a finger inside me, filling me in the most scrumptious way, moving in and out slowly and methodically, wringing the pleasure free. I get closer and closer to my climax, faster than even I’ve been able to do. Hearing his breath quicken, I rub my hand along the seam of his jeans, teasing him through the material. He rocks into my touch.

Fuck.

If you’d asked me a few weeks ago, would I have expected to be here, now, watching and participating in such a way, I’d have thought you were high. Then again, I’m not sure if I’mnota woman who wouldn’t have been here, enjoying this, and wanting to take a stranger’s cock into my mouth.

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